Fire and Water
by fruitshop
Summary: To her, loving him was never an obligation - it was essential. Not being able to grasp the concept of friendship, love, and loyalty, he, however, only knew obsession. When Tom Riddle's wizarding heritage begins to haunt him, Grace Durand may be the only one to remain faithful until the very end ... Tom Riddle/OC.
1. Prologue

**DISCLAIMER: I only own my OCs. Any characters and places you _do_ recognise belong to the wonderful J. K. Rowling.**

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There was nothing Tom Riddle did not despise at Wool's Orphanage. He disliked the grey building right from its dingy and tiny rooms down to its cold and dull entrance hall. He couldn't stand the matron's, Mrs Cole, shrill voice and the constant smell of gin wafting out of her office. But what Tom Riddle hated most were the other children who lived in the orphanage, especially the ones who liked to make fun of him because he was _different_.

Yes, Tom was as different as one could be. While for the other children the term 'different' seemed to have a negative connotation, Tom took pride in this difference and already knew at an early age that he was special. He never really told anyone, of course. He had always been suspicious of Mrs Cole and the other children and it would not do well to confide in them. But when Billy Stubbs had hidden drawing pins in Tom's shoes and hours later had found his bed on fire, Tom knew that he from now on could put an end to being harassed.

There was only one child Tom didn't hate as much as the others. Well, he didn't particularly like her either, but she had never made fun of Tom when his blankets had gone missing again or when someone threw food at him during lunch time. And Tom would soon find out that Grace Parker was as _different_ as he was.

When Tom was only three years old, Grace was left on the front steps of Wool's Orphanage, clad in a thick woollen coat and a letter clutched in her tiny hands. Tom was one of the many children who had nosily been peeking down the stairs when a shocked Mrs Cole ushered the small girl inside and into her office. At first, Tom had just given an annoyed sigh and returned to his room, thinking that there now was another bothersome girl added to the group of orphans. He had only caught a glimpse of her porcelain skin and straight brown hair, but the rest of her didn't interest him anyway.

Tom and Grace's first encounter had happened only two days later during breakfast. Tom's day had already begun awfully when Mrs Cole checked on him to make sure he had dressed properly which, of course, he had. Annoyed, she had sent him down the stairs and had continued to help Billy tie his shoes. When Tom had taken his tray and sat down at one of the tables in the dining room, as far away from the other children as possible, a small voice had shaken him out of his stupor.

"Would you mind if I sit down here?" Grace Parker had asked, pointing at the place right next to Tom while clutching her tray. Of course, Tom had refused her request and she was left standing in the middle of the dining hall with her big, sad blue eyes.

But what had annoyed Tom the most back then was the fact that Grace had seemed to follow him around from then on. It wasn't obvious to the other orphans, but from the day Grace Parker had set foot in Wool's Orphanage she preferred to sit at his favourite table, took the same reading lessons he did and was always signing up for the same hour of outdoor time as Tom when they were older. It bothered Tom so much that he had not only slipped into Grace's room one time during supper and had caused all of her books and toys to vanish, but he had also let her soup explode when she had dared to let Dennis Bishop sit down next to her and Tom.

Nothing kept the tiny girl away from him, though. Grace wasn't as troublesome as some of the girls in her dorm, but Tom wanted to be left alone nevertheless. It did not really help that Grace seemed to make friends everywhere she walked even though she did not talk very much and preferred to just smile and nod, instead of engaging in detailed conversations. She also didn't shy away from Tom when Billy Stubbs told everyone that Tom had somehow hung his rabbit from the rafters. On the contrary, Grace seemed to be drawn to Tom even more.

On the day Tom turned seven, his opinion of her started to change and he began to realise that maybe Grace wasn't as despicable as everyone else. They had known each other for four years now, but had never engaged in a conversation that didn't end with Tom abruptly leaving the room or sneering at the girl and her apparent stupidity. It was already dark outside when there was a soft knock on Tom's door. He huffed, angry that someone dared to disturb him while he was reading, and wasn't at all surprised when Grace let herself in only moments later. She closed the door behind her and leaned her back against it, her big blue eyes studying Tom who wasn't looking up from his book.

"I brought you some cake," Grace said and held up a small plate with a tiny piece of cake on it. Tom still didn't raise his head but watched the girl's every move out of the corner of his eyes. "I thought you would like some since it's your birthday today."

Tom sighed and slammed the book shut. He knew Grace wouldn't leave his room until he had accepted that damned piece of cake.

"And where, do tell, did you get that cake?" Tom asked as he drew himself up. He was tall for his age and liked to tower over those he considered inferior to him. Grace Parker was no exception. "I know Mrs Cole did neither make it for my birthday nor because it is New Year's Eve."

"Oh!" Grace exclaimed and her pale cheeks turned a soft shade of pink. "I made it myself with the help of one of the older girls. You see, it is my birthday today as well."

Tom stiffened at the mention and stared at the girl, still not taking the plate from her. He had never known that he and that annoying Parker girl shared the same date of birth. Not that he really cared though, Tom thought with a sneer as he took the plate and placed it on his bedside table with no intention of eating it as soon as Grace would leave the room. "You can leave now," he commanded and turned away, not really caring that he would come across as rude and ungrateful. But Grace didn't move.

"There is something else I wanted to tell you," she whispered and stared at Tom's back through her long lashes. Tom was irritated, she could tell, but she pushed the fear back into the deepest part of her mind as she bravely stepped forward. "I am like you, Tom. I am different."

Tom whipped around, his dark eyes filled with rage. For one second, he felt like hitting Grace. How dare she didn't respect his privacy and then claim that she was in any way similar to him! He didn't raise his fist though, and tried to calm himself down. What good would it do to get into a fight with Grace? They were only seven and he was in no mood to get yelled at by Mrs Cole again.

"Different _how_?" Tom finally asked, not wanting to give anything away.

"I can show you," Grace said and when Tom turned around, her hand was already hovering over a candle sitting on Tom's desk, her face contorted in concentration. At first nothing happened, but after a short while the candle's wick lit up and a small flame tickled Grace's palm. She had ignited the candle.

"I can't quite control it yet," Grace told Tom as if nothing extraordinary had happened and turned her blue eyes on him. "But I know _you_ can. I saw you talking under your breath when my soup had exploded back in June. I _saw_ you control Billy's rabbit right before-". In one swift move, Tom had put his hand over her mouth and stared down at her with fury in his eyes.

"Never mention this to anyone," he hissed and let go of the brown-haired girl. "No one can ever know, do you understand? They won't understand; they will call us 'freaks' behind our backs. Do you want that?" He glared at Grace who was shaking her head. Tom could see that the excitement from before had vanished from her eyes and he was pleased to known that he had put a damper on Grace's mood.

"This must be our secret."

* * *

Grace was adopted by an elderly couple in July 1935. Tom wouldn't have minded years before, but since Grace did now share his secret, he wasn't as calm as he knew he should have been.

Mr and Mrs Durand were in their late fifties and were coming straight at Tom and Grace who were sitting in the orphanage's garden, and they were led by an overly excited Mrs Cole.

"Maybe they have come to adopt Sarah," Grace mused and turned to look at a small blond girl who was sitting only a few metres away from them. She was already used to being ignored by the couples who had so far been to the orphanage as most of them preferred to adopt one of the much younger children. Grace told herself that she didn't really mind, though.

But Tom knew they hadn't come for Sarah. While he lowered the book he caught the couple smiling at Grace, and Mrs Cole was still chattering when they had finally reached the two children. Tom made a show of turning his attention to his book again but Grace was peering up at the three adults right in front of them.

"Grace," Mrs Cole began slowly, sparing Tom only a small frown. "This nice couple has come to adopt you."

Tom rolled his eyes at Mrs Cole for talking to Grace like she was still some five-year-old, yet he didn't say anything as he could hear said girl gasp beside him.

"Me?" Grace exclaimed, unable to keep the surprise out of her voice. "But why?"

The couple laughed softly and the woman helped Grace stand up. They introduced themselves as Mr and Mrs Durand who were living in Glasgow and had gotten married thirty years ago. They had taken an interest in Grace after seeing her in the entrance hall an hour ago, and since she reminded Mrs Durand of her sister when she had been much younger, they had decided to ask her if she wanted to live with them.

Grace was, by now, openly excited and had already asked Mr Durand if she were allowed to keep a cat in her new home. Tom's ears only pricked up when he heard Grace ask: "Can Tom come, too?"

"I'm afraid he cannot, my dear," Mrs Durand answered softly, looking at Tom with pity in her eyes which made his blood boil. Minutes later, the Durands were led back inside by Mrs Cole to fill in the rest of Grace's papers. The latter had been instructed to pack her things as she and the Durands would be leaving in less than an hour.

"Isn't this wonderful?" Grace exclaimed as Tom followed her up the stairs and into her room. "I cannot believe they chose me! I had already lost hope I would every get out of this dingy orphanage. Isn't this great, Tom?"

But Tom was only staring at her with an indescribable look written on his face. He couldn't _believe_ Grace could be so delighted by being adopted by such plain people. What about the gift she had been given? Had she already forgotten about their little secret? Tom wouldn't call Grace his friend and he most definitely wouldn't miss her when she was finally gone, but it had been almost nice to have someone to talk to from time to time during the last two years. And now she was about to leave, leave _him_, just like that.

"I'm sure you can come and visit any time," Grace continued, already packing her things. She didn't have much, yet she didn't want to leave anything behind. But as she reached for her coat in the wardrobe, Tom's hand closed painfully around her wrist, and he yanked her around so that they were face to face.

"I don't want to ever see you again, liar," Tom spat and shoved Grace away from him. She tumbled and almost hit her head against the wardrobe.

"Tom, what-," Grace stuttered, though Tom had already left the room. She didn't see him when she made her way downstairs and she still didn't see him when she was saying her goodbyes to Mrs Cole and the other orphans. Some of the younger children were crying when they saw Grace leave, already missing the young girl and her warm smile. Grace couldn't believe that Tom wouldn't even say his last goodbye and felt anger and sadness welling up inside. She wasn't even sure why Tom would be so angry at her when she hadn't done anything wrong and her eyes watered when the Durands led her outside, Mr Durand carrying Grace's small trunk.

Grace didn't know and never noticed a shadow watching her and the Durands getting into one of the cars parked outside the orphanage. Tom clenched his fists as he watched the car drive off down the street and, after a few seconds, out of sight. He didn't regret not saying Grace goodbye, it would have been a pure waste of his precious time anyway. Now it was just him and him alone again. Would Tom ever see her again? Probably not; not that he cared very much about that.

When Tom finally turned away from the window, his dark eyes gleaming red in the setting summer sun, all of the street lamps' bulbs outside suddenly shattered with a deafening sound, and no one but Tom and Grace, if she had been there, would ever know how and why such a thing could have happened.

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**Will Tom and Grace see each other again? Well, as this is only the prologue, they most definitely will ;) Please read and review, and let me know what you think!**


	2. The Acceptance Letter

**Chapter 1: The Acceptance Letter**

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The car ride back to Glasgow was a most tedious one and Grace soon found herself staring out the window at the landscape rushing by. After much fumbling, and Grace's help, Mr Durand had managed to turn on the radio. He was currently humming along to some jazz song Grace didn't know.

Even though she had tried hard to avoid it, Grace's thoughts came always wandering back to Tom and his horrendous behaviour. Since she had known him, Tom had never been fond of having others around; this attitude hadn't even changed after Grace had confided in Tom and told him about the mysterious things she could do. And while Tom would have never openly regarded her as his friend and had, even after all these years, always gone rigid when Grace sat down next to him, she had considered him to be the closest being to a friend she had ever had. Sure, the other children at the orphanage had been nice to her, but they weren't like her and Tom, they would never understand the things they were able to perform.

Grace sighed and shifted her gaze so that she was looking right at the back of Mrs Durand's head. They seemed nice enough, she thought and began to wonder how the Durands would react if she were to tell them about her abilities. Would they call her a freak, like Tom said they would? Or maybe they would be delighted at the fact that they had adopted such a talented little girl.

"Mrs Durand," Grace finally piped up and craned her neck so that she could peer right over the passenger's seat. "I would like to ask you something, if you don't mind."

Mrs Durand turned around slightly and smiled softly. "Call me Maggy, my dear," she said and nodded. Grace felt encouraged by her words and continued, her heart pounding in her chest.

"What do you think about magic?"

Grace didn't miss the look the Durands exchanged right before Mrs Durand turned fully around in her seat and her husband cleared his throat noisily. "Why would you ask that, Grace?" the light-haired woman inquired, but her tone was friendly and curious. Grace's courage left her, though, and she leant back in her seat, her gaze turned at her lap.

"It's just that, well, it … I've read books about magic. Fantasy novels," Grace lied after quite a while. "It greatly interests me."

Mrs Durand exchanged another look with her husband as if they somehow knew Grace was lying and started rummaging through her bag before pulling out something that looked like— "A wand!" Grace exclaimed and leapt in her seat. She couldn't believe her eyes when her adoptive mother smiled, swung her wand and made the car's ceiling see-through in the blink of an eye.

"We figured we wouldn't have to tell you until your eleventh birthday, Grace," Mr Durand commented and looked at her through the rear-view mirror, his eyes twinkling. "But we are like you, my dear. There was a reason why you were adopted into a wizarding family and there is no harm in telling you now … you are a witch."

She couldn't believe her eyes and ears, as this was too good to be true. Grace gaped at the dark clouds she could now perfectly see through the ceiling, and then back at Maggy Durand, who was still beaming at her. A million questions formed in Grace's head about how they had known about her and how all of this could be possible, and was Tom also to be adopted into a wizarding family? Her being a witch would definitely explain a lot of the things which had happened in the past. Could it be possible that her _real_ parents had magical abilities as well?

"But … _how_?" Grace breathed and looked up into Mrs Durand's brown eyes. "How did you know?"

"Oh, that is something that we cannot tell you yet, Grace," Mr Durand explained, his gaze shifting between the road and the rear-view mirror. "You just have to know that we will treat you with all the kindness and love that we can give. It was no coincidence that our paths crossed; and as we ourselves have never had any children we were more than willing to let you stay with us."

"That is very kind, sir," the small girl mumbled and felt her cheeks turn a deep shade of red. Mr Durand laughed heartily.

"It was such trouble to get a car and learn how to drive, though," he said and Mrs Durand began to laugh as well. "Couldn't have suddenly flounced into Wool's Orphanage on our brooms, could we?"

"Brooms?" Grace gasped. She felt like the doors to a whole new world had been opened just for her to see. Being only eight years old, Grace naturally didn't know a lot about her surroundings yet, but she couldn't wait to explore the wizarding world she now seemed to be a part of.

"Oh, yes!" Mrs Durand exclaimed and again laughed at Grace's puzzled expression. "You will see there are much faster ways than travelling by car."

When the Durand's had started to concentrate on the road again and Mr Durand was now openly able to criticise the function of a 'Muggle radio', Grace leant back in her seat and goggled at the now dark sky. She desperately wanted to ask the Durands about her birth parents and why she couldn't remember anything that had happened before she was left on the stairs of the orphanage, but she knew now was not the time. Her time would come.

* * *

More than two years had gone by during which Grace had had a more exciting time than she had ever had during her years at Wool's Orphanage. She still missed Tom dearly and had written to him more than once, yet he had never responded to any of her letters. The Durands were the most adorable adoptive parents Grace could have wished for, though, and they had invited her into their world, this completely new and exciting world, with open arms. Grace had already learned all about a sport called Quidditch, about house-elves and their abilities, and about the Durands' ways of housekeeping (which mostly included letting the plates clean themselves and the home appliances to work on their own). Grace had never felt more at home before.

On New Year's Day 1938, Grace couldn't help but think about Tom again while she was combing her long, sleek hair in front of the mirror in her room. It had been their eleventh birthday yesterday and she wondered if Tom had gotten the present she had sent him with her mother's owl Meryl. So far, she had never received a present from Tom in return, though she didn't really mind. Grace only wished for him to at least answer one of the many letters she had sent him in the past; after all, they hadn't seen each other in such a long time.

The sun was beginning to set by the time Grace had finished getting ready for dinner and she had just closed the door to hurry into the dining room when she heard Mrs Durand's voice drift up the stairs: "Albus, so lovely to see you again. Come inside."

Grace was confused; her parents hadn't told her anything about a guest. She tiptoed downstairs, past Miles the house-elf, who was carrying a plate of appetisers, and knocked softly on the dining room's door before entering. Grace wasn't at all surprised to see a third person sitting at the huge mahogany table. It was a tall and thin man, with a crooked nose and a long beard. He glimpsed right over his half-moon spectacles when he saw her enter, smiled and got up swiftly.

"Ah," he announced and strode straight towards Grace, his right hand reaching out to shake hers. "You must be Grace."

The brown-haired girl just nodded, accepting the man's handshake with a small smile. She could see her parents looking slightly anxious in the background.

"My name is Albus Dumbledore, Grace," the tall man continued, straightening the pointed head which was adorning his head. "And I have come here to offer you a place at our school, namely Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. As you are now eleven years old, you will be old enough to attend." He was looking pleased as he handed Grace a letter. It seemed to bear the school's seal as it showed the letter 'H' flanked by a lion, a serpent, an eagle and a badger. Grace's hand shook as she opened the letter and peered at the first page.

"_We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on September, 1__st__. We await your owl by no later than July, 31__st_," Grace read out loud. She looked up at Dumbledore with huge eyes, delight bubbling up inside of her. Grace then turned to the Durands who had gotten up from their respective places. "Can I go? Please?"

Mr Durand laughed and Mrs Durand had started to dab at her eyes with a huge handkerchief. "Of course you can, Grace," her father said and grinned when Grace threw herself at him and hugged him with all her might. Dumbledore stood aside, not wanting to interrupt such a precious moment.

Dumbledore cleared his throat after a while, again smiling when Grace turned her full attention to the old wizard.

"I'm nothing but delighted to hear that you accept my offer," Dumbledore told the young girl. "There are quite a few things you will have to know about, but this is neither the time nor the place to tell you, Grace. Do not worry though, for you will find out sooner or later. There _is _something I want to confess nevertheless; _I_ was the one who sent you to Wool's Orphanage and also the one who stayed in constant contact with the Durands."

"I— I can't remember," Grace admitted and her gaze again shifted towards her adoptive parents. "I can't remember anything that has happened before my arrival at the orphanage. But why would you send me there? What about my … my birth parents?"

Silence fell over the dining room. Mrs Durand sniffed but Dumbledore only looked at Grace as if he had already known the questions she would ask.

"This I also cannot tell you yet. Rest assured, you will be told when the time is right," Dumbledore said, folding his hands behind his back. "You have to understand that I did all of it to keep you safe."

Grace felt like she was even more confused than before, but she kept quiet. She had never been one to question others before and she believed Dumbledore when he told her that the time wasn't right. Why he couldn't tell her _now_— that was still a mystery.

When Dumbledore pulled a pocket watch out of his robes, Grace was shaken out of her stupor. She caught a glimpse of the watch which, rather than numbers, had twelve hands and moving planets.

"Oh!" he exclaimed happily. "That late already. I would love to stay for dinner, Maggy, but I fear I must hurry on."

Dumbledore was saying his goodbyes to the Durands when Grace's soft voice piped up again. "Mr Dumbledore, sir," she said, having one final question which she hoped he could answer, now that she knew about their magical background. "Will Tom Riddle be there as well? At Hogwarts?"

The Professor turned around slowly and Grace could have sworn that his eyes flashed up with worry, even if it was only for a second.

"Oh yes, dear, I paid Tom a visit just this morning," Dumbledore answered, his voice grave. "It would amaze me if you were not to see him again this upcoming summer."

* * *

At the same time, hundreds of miles away, Tom was still mulling over the letter of acceptance to Hogwarts School Dumbledore had given him hours ago. He hadn't really taken a great liking to the Professor, and being informed by Dumbledore that he, in fact, was a wizard hadn't surprised Tom all that much. As a matter of fact, it explained quite a lot and Tom felt a surge of triumph that he possessed something no one else at the orphanage did. He would have to be careful from now on though; that Dumbledore seemed to be someone who could not be easily tricked by mere flattery.

Tom stared at his reflection in the mirror next to his wardrobe; the one Dumbledore had set on fire to prove to Tom that he hadn't come to take the boy to an asylum. Tom looked very pale and had dark circles around the eyes, but a new hope flared in his eyes. The hope to finally get out of this wretched orphanage.

"What are you staring at?" A voice suddenly called from the door, making Tom whirl around. Billy Stubbs was standing in the doorway, a huge smirk plastered on his face. Tom could see two other children hiding behind Billy, probably curious to know what was going to happen. "I saw that doctor coming for you this morning," Billy continued, taking a step forward. "It was about time that someone had come to take you away, _freak._"

Tom lunged at Billy. He was sick and tired of the older boy's remarks; hadn't Tom already taught him a lesson when he had killed Billy's pet-rabbit?

Billy stepped aside smoothly and grabbed Tom by the arm, but the moment he did he began to scream in anguish. Tom glared at Billy with frustration and hatred, and was delighted to see Billy's burnt hand when the boy clutched his right arm to his chest.

"You— you monster!" Billy screamed with tears in his eyes and fled Tom's room, followed by the other children who had been looking on. Tom had no doubt that Billy would be telling Mrs Cole about the incident but he didn't really care. He felt a strong satisfaction at having hurt the older boy and couldn't stop marvelling at his special gifts. He was better than them, than all of them. And he would be even better than every other student attending Hogwarts alongside him.

Tom sneered as he sat down at his desk and spotted the small diary Grace had sent him for his birthday. Foolish girl. He thought he had made it clear that he never wanted to see her again by not replying to any of her letters. She was probably enjoying life living at the Durands' manor while he was still stuck in London with all the other non-special children. Tom didn't know if Grace had been accepted to Hogwarts as well, nor did he care. Someone who had _voluntarily_ decided to live with such ordinary people wasn't worthy of being called 'special'. She could have stayed with him and he maybe would have allowed her to follow him around their new school, providing that Grace were to attend.

As Mrs Cole's furious voice drifted up the stairs, Tom lazily flung Grace's diary aside and got up. He would deal with the matron's wrath now and maybe deal with Billy Stubbs for one last time, before tending to his _new_ life outside the orphanage. Dumbledore had provided him with enough information to find the so-called Diagon Alley to buy the needed equipment, and Tom was eager to get out of Wool's Orphanage tomorrow to explore Diagon Alley. He smirked and slammed the door shut.

* * *

**The next chapter will finally deal with the Sorting at Hogwarts and will be told entirely out of Tom's perspective, I promise. Also, please don't be surprised at the fact that Dumbledore delivered Grace's letter in person, I will soon dive into that.**

**Please, please, **_**please**_** leave a short comment of what you think, as I got tons of views on the prologue, but only one comment :( Thank you all so much!**


	3. Separation

**Chapter 2: Separation**

* * *

On September 1st, the Hogwarts Express left at 11 o'clock sharp. Thanks to Dumbledore's thorough explanation, Tom had managed to get to King's Cross Station Platform 9 ¾ without trouble and was currently weaving through the crowd of other witches and wizards to store his trunk on the train. It had been almost impossible to convince Mrs Cole to travel to King's Cross all by himself, but Tom had somehow managed to get rid of the matron. He shuddered when he thought about a Muggle, the term for non-magical people he had picked up at Diagon Alley after overhearing some older Hogwarts students, stepping into this magical world. It was best for Tom that he had been left alone.

He looked around before scrambling onto the train, his trunk in tow. It was heavy with all the new books and equipment Tom had gotten months ago and he struggled slightly before heaving the trunk into an empty compartment right next to the entrance. _So this is it_, Tom thought and sat down next to the window. Some people were still bidding their farewells or hopping onto the train in a hurry, trunks, cats and owls in tow. Tom sneered at a couple who was kissing right below his compartment window and turned away. He wondered how long it would take to get to Hogwarts and what would await him there as he pulled a battered book out of his trunk and began to read.

When Tom first looked at his watch, the meadows and rivers were already passing by in a blur. It was right after 1 pm and Tom began to notice a slow but steady wave of anticipation wash over him. He put his book aside right as someone opened the door to his compartment. Tom had almost forgotten about all the other students on the train, being so absorbed in his Potions book, and he narrowed his eyes at the two boys who had entered noisily.

"Are those seats taken?" the taller of the two asked, pointing at the seats across from Tom. He had shaggy, black hair and grey eyes. But before Tom could refuse, the boy had already sat down, patting the seat next to him so the other boy would sit down as well. Tom's eyes gleamed with anger and he cleared his throat.

"I did not say they weren't," he said slowly, trying hard to control his voice. The black-haired boy just raised an eyebrow and snorted.

"Yeah, I figured," he stated and ogled at Tom's single trunk in the compartment. The other boy snorted and pushed his blond bangs aside. He had green eyes that were mischievously glittering. Silence fell until the blond spoke up for the first time.

"You seem to be a first-year as well," he said, nodding at Tom's Potions book. "I'm Abraxas Malfoy and this is Alphard Black. First-years as well."

"Tom Riddle," Tom just answered and leant back in his seat.

"Riddle?" the Malfoy boy asked, squinting his eyes. "Never heard of your name before. Are you a pure-blood as well? Father has told me about some of the American pure-blood families— very rich, hard to get in touch with, so of course _I_ wouldn't know."

"Not that it is any of your business," Tom said dryly. "But if you need to know—"

He was saved by the compartment door being once more opened, but after seeing the person standing in the doorway, Tom wished it hadn't.

Grace Durand, formerly Parker_,_ had changed a lot over the past three years. Her brown hair had grown into long waves, and thick, black lashes were framing her blue eyes. Her skin now glistened with a soft tan, her face still slender and pretty, and Tom noticed with slight annoyance the expensive jewellery and silk robes she was wearing. Two girls were standing behind Grace, both slightly taller than her, which wasn't all that difficult, but she hadn't seemed to notice Tom as her blue eyes inspected Malfoy and Black's nonchalant posture. Tom wished he could hide in his trunk; he hadn't expected to encounter Grace so soon— or at all.

"Alphard," Grace warned and puffed her cheeks slightly. "We _know_ that you took Mary's Remembrall. Just give it back before I tattle." The red-haired girl behind her seemed to have tears in her eyes.

"_I_ didn't take it!" Alphard exclaimed. "Abraxas and Riddle can confirm that I have been here for quite a while; right fellows?"

Before Tom had the chance to utter an annoyed NO, Grace had turned to look at him and gasped. He could see the glee on her face as the tiny girl launched forwards and engulfed him in a hug. Tom went rigid when he felt Grace's body press against his, and she let him loose when he failed to hug her back. The other girls in the doorway had begun to whisper and Malfoy and Black looked absolutely dumbfounded.

"Oh, Tom!" Grace exclaimed, and Tom could see that her eyes were swimming in tears as she sat down beside him. "I thought I would never see you again; you never answered any of my letters. How have you been? You look so tired, have the other children not been treating you well? And how is everyone?"

Tom grew more and more annoyed at her rambling and was even more bothered at Black who had begun to snigger and coo _Oh Tom_ behind his hand.

"I have been fine," Tom huffed and straightened his jacket. "I am also in no mood to talk about this _now_," he added in a harsh whisper that only Grace could hear. No one needed to know about the orphanage or Tom's well-being. The girl looked hurt and seemed to be taken aback but she swiftly regained her composure when her red-headed friend tapped her on the shoulder.

"Let's just leave," the girl squeaked with pleading eyes. Grace nodded and got up, but not before giving Tom's hand one final squeeze.

"I hope we can talk later," she added with a sad smile and followed the girls out.

Black whistled right after the compartment door had been closed and smirked at Tom. He had never wanted to hex someone as much as he wanted now.

"So you and Grace are childhood friends," he said. "Well, at least you seem to have one friend at Hogwarts. Let's also leave, Abraxas." Black laughed as he and Malfoy got up, but not before giving Tom a dirty and wary look. He smirked, pulled a tiny ball-sized glass ball out of his pocket and slammed the door shut, leaving an enraged Tom behind.

* * *

The train finally arrived late that evening. After the first-years were all greeted by Hogwarts' gamekeeper Ogg, they followed him all through the dark, down a stony path. Tom brought up the rear, mainly to avoid Grace and her inane friends, with two other boys who were looking frightened and making huge eyes at Ogg; Tom sneered at them for being so foolish. When they arrived at the edge of a great lake, Tom and the other children got their first sight of Hogwarts, a grand castle, ablaze with lights, which stood on a high mountain. Tom could hear the others cooing _Ohhhs_ and _Ahhhs_, and even _he_ had to admit that the sight was magnificent.

It took them some time to get to the castle itself but by the time they were greeted and shown to the vast Entrance Hall, Tom was slightly shaking with curiosity. His time would begin now.

Tom espied Black, Malfoy and Grace standing up front and he, again, felt discontent rushing through his veins. He couldn't quite understand why Grace was here, of all people. He had seen the things she was able to do, that was for sure, but Tom himself hadn't deemed her worthy to attend Hogwarts. She was nothing more than a mere _Muggle_, probably having stumbled over some magic tricks. And while Tom had been raised in a Muggle orphanage, he was absolutely sure that his parents had been a witch and wizard. No other option was possible in his mind because his power and knowledge were far too great for his age for his parents to have been _ordinary_. Tom narrowed his eyes when Grace laughed at something Black had been whispering in her ear; how come they even knew each other?

Tom was still mulling over his thoughts when Professor Dumbledore started to tell the first-years, who were all looking at him in awe, all about the following Sorting Ceremony and the four houses they would be sorted into. He only looked up again when Dumbledore led them into the Great Hall, right to its top where the teachers were sitting. Tom was squinting at the hundreds of faces in front of him and slightly frowned when Dumbledore put a stool bearing a pointed wizard's hat in front of the first-years.

Dumbledore unrolled a roll of parchment and cleared his throat. "I will now call your names and you will put on the hat to be sorted," he told the first-years with a gentle smile. Tom thought he heard the Sorting Hat cough.

"Avery, Alexander!"

A scrawny boy tumbled out of the crowd, his brown eyes looking fearful, and he put on the hat. There was silence until the hat shouted— "SLYTHERIN!"

The students at one of the long tables in front of them started to cheer and clap. They were wearing robes lined with green and silver, and didn't look all too friendly compared to the rest of the students. Alexander took off the hat, now a grin upon his face, and hurried over to the Slytherins.

"Black, Alphard!"

Tom eyed Black sceptically as the tall boy walked confidently towards the stool and put on the hat which engulfed half of his face. The hat took its time this time, but after a few minutes it finally screamed "SLYTHERIN!" into the silent hall. Again, the table second from the right burst into applause. Tom could have been mistaken, but he swore he had seen slight disappointment in Black's eyes.

There were four other people, Grace's insufferable friend Mary included, before it was Grace's turn. Tom watched her march towards the hat, her face white and her hands shaking. Her eyes were shining brightly in the candlelight and Grace's eyes met Tom's before she put on the Sorting Hat and it swallowed her head, showing only her quivering mouth and the ends of her glossy hair. Tom couldn't deny that he was downright nervous now. Did he want him and Grace to end up in the same house? They weren't friends in his opinion, but as that Black kid had said, she was the only one who considered him to be one. Tom stared at Grace, his breath caught in his throat and then the rip near the hat's brim finally opened—

"GRYFFINDOR!" the hat roared, and Grace looked delighted as she took off the hat and hurried over to the Gryffindor table. Her friend Mary was already waiting eagerly and several older students were greeting Grace with nods and handshakes. Grace smiled at all of them and after sitting down next to Mary she looked up again, right into Tom's eyes. _Good luck_, she mouthed and gave him a fleeting smile. Tom turned away hastily, pretending he hadn't been watching Grace's every move.

Time seemed to go by very slowly until it was Tom's turn. Abraxas Malfoy had been sorted into Slytherin while Grace's other friend, who had been hiding behind her on the train whilst Grace had confronted Black, had been declared a Ravenclaw. Tom's hands were shaking as "Parker, Jane!" was sorted into Hufflepuff and Dumbledore finally called: "Riddle, Tom". Tom couldn't wait anymore; he stalked out of line, now oozing pride and confidence, sat on the stool and put on the hat. The last thing he saw before the hat slipped over his eyes were all the glowing faces looking at him expectantly.

"Oh my," said a tiny voice Tom was pretty sure only he could hear. "I see. Hm. There is the strong desire to be set apart from others. Very intelligent, cunning. And looking at the ones who have sat in your place so many years ago I have only one choice— SLYTHERIN!"

Tom swayed as he took the hat off and hurried over to the Slytherins. Some of them were clapping politely, but Tom didn't care; he was too busy thinking about the Sorting Hat's words— "the ones who have sat in your place so many years ago"; what had it meant by that? Tom didn't even notice Dumbledore rolling up the parchment moments later and Headmaster Dippet starting the feast. The only logical explanation was that Tom's ancestors had been at Hogwarts as well, and they had all been sorted into Slytherin. He would have to get to the bottom of that.

"Oy, Riddle!" someone suddenly called and Tom's train of thought came to a sudden halt. Black was waving at him from the other side of the table, Malfoy and an arrogant-looking girl sitting next to him, and he smirked. "Don't be sad that poor, little Grace now belongs to the Gryffindors. We will take care of you."

Black and Malfoy shared a hollow laugh and Tom's blood began to boil. He would be showing Black who would be taking care of whom in the near future. He angrily stabbed into his mashed potatoes and glared at Grace across the hall. She would suffer for this indignity.

* * *

After the feast, a Prefect led the first-years down to the dungeons and into the Slytherin Common Room. Tom was very displeased to find out that he was sharing a dormitory with Black, Malfoy, and two other boys, namely Alexander Avery and Nigel Lestrange. When it was time to unpack their belongings, Tom chose the four-poster bed farthest away from the others as he had no intention of making friends at Hogwarts. He sighed in annoyance as Malfoy droned on and on about his family and stuffed his books into one of the boxes which would now belong to him.

"Alphard and I are cousins," Malfoy airily told Avery while Black made himself comfortable on his bed. "It was predictable that the hat would put us into Slytherin. Right, Alphard?"

Alphard just grunted in response and continued to stare at the ceiling. Tom again noted with satisfaction that Black looked like he would be far happier if the Sorting Hat had put in him into any house that _wasn't _Slytherin.

"Well," Alphard began and turned around on his bed, "couldn't be avoided." Malfoy just raised his eyebrows, though he didn't say anything.

"My grandmother's a Muggle," Avery confided. "It's mortifying."

"As it should be," Malfoy declared and nodded. Tom couldn't stop himself from rolling his eyes, and was just about to cover himself with the green-and-silver blanket when Lestrange eyed him curiously.

"What about you, Riddle?" he asked, making Malfoy and Avery turn around as well. "Black told us you are friends with Durand; are your parents acquainted?" Even Black had sat up at Lestrange's question and was looking at Tom with distrust. What was with their interest in Grace Durand anyway?

Tom narrowed his eyes at the boys and snapped: "That is not any of your business."

"Why so harsh, Riddle?" Malfoy chimed in and grinned. "Are you a Mudblood or what?" Everyone but Black and Tom laughed.

"No," Tom answered, grinding his teeth. How dare Malfoy call _him_ a Mudblood?

"Well, then there will be no harm in telling us," Malfoy snarled. All eyes were on Tom now, and he saw no other way out but lie.

"Our parents know each other, yes," Tom growled, his eyes flashing at Malfoy. Malfoy seemed to be pleased with Tom's answer, and he turned around to continue his conversation with Avery. Tom was livid. Malfoy would pay for it; they would all pay for it, to even _consider_ Tom to be a Mudblood. Tom would show them to never laugh at him again— they would soon be experiencing what real fear was.

* * *

**Well, was it predictable that Grace and Tom wouldn't **_**both**_** end up in Slytherin? In my opinion, Grace is far too gentle to have been sorted into Slytherin and there are still some other facts that are crucial for her now being a Gryffindor (which will, now that Tom and Grace are at Hogwarts, slowly surface).**

**Also, I **_**really**_** wanted to put Alphard into Ravenclaw but as I'm mostly sticking to the books— yeah. Please read and REVIEW, and tell me what you guys think!**


	4. Wrath

**Chapter 3: Wrath**

* * *

The first month at Hogwarts had already passed, and Grace had become fast friends with the girls in her dormitory and some of the boys in her year. Tom had been successfully ignoring her even though they had Potions and Transfiguration together. Usually, Grace saw Tom either alone or with that Lestrange boy, but every time their eyes would meet or they'd run into each other in the Great Hall Tom would completely ignore her entire existence. It made Grace sad to see them like that despite her friends telling her that it was for the best to _not_ befriend a Slytherin. No one, except for Tom, knew about her earlier years at the orphanage and her adoptive parents had begged her to let it stay that way.

It was the middle of October when things started to change. Grace was sitting between Mary and Gillian, her eyes trying to focus on her breakfast and not Tom Riddle's back, when Alphard plopped down in the seat across from her, a big grin on his face.

"Hello ladies," he said to get their attention.

Gillian grimaced in disgust and gave Alphard a scornful look. "You," she said, "are a _Slytherin_."

"Yeah, I noticed," Alphard replied bored and picked at the Slytherin emblem on his blazer. "But I'd much rather sit with _you_." He waggled his eyebrows at Gillian who frowned.

"What is it, Alphard?" asked Grace and put down her fork. "Are the others giving you a hard time?"

"Nah," the boy said and turned around to wave at his cousin. "They are just boring, you know? Also," he lowered his voice and looked up at the girls, "I think Abraxas is mad at me for hiding his socks and underwear."

Grace laughed while Mary and Gillian just threw Alphard exasperated looks.

"Did you already start working on your Potions essay?" Alphard asked, this time only directing his question at Grace who had continued picking at her breakfast. "If not, would you mind meeting at the library on Friday to start on it together?"

There was a hopeful gleam in his eyes.

Grace shrugged her shoulders and smiled. "Sure, why not."

Alphard grinned at Grace and got up.

"Well, duty calls," he said and waved. Grace's face fell.

"Aren't you going to eat something?" she asked, shoving a plate with buttered toast in Alphard's direction. The tall boy shrugged his shoulders.

"Not hungry," Alphard answered. "Besides, I forgot my satchel. Don't want to be late for Charms, right?" He turned around and left.

But before he had reached the entrance to the Great Hall, a tiny hand had closed around Alphard's wrist and pulled him aside. Alphard turned and looked down at Grace with a baffled look on his face.

"I need to talk to you for a second," Grace said in a hushed tone. "In private."

Alphard cocked an eyebrow.

"It's about Tom. Tom Riddle," Grace muttered and looked at the taller boy with big eyes. Alphard could see concern lining her soft features, though he did not understand why.

"How do you know him anyway?" Alphard interrupted Grace, a sharp tone to his voice. "He is most definitely not a pure-blood, so how is it possible for you to know him so ... _well_?"

"That is actually none of your business, Alphard," said Grace, the concern in her eyes slowly replaced by annoyance. "Also, it should not matter that he is a half-blood, and you know that as well as I do. Anyway ... how has he been lately? You two are sharing a dormitory, right?"

"Why don't you ask Riddle yourself?" Alphard huffed, clearly annoyed that Grace would ask him of all people.

"I can't," Grace answered sadly. "He has been avoiding me since the beginning of the school year."

"Well, I can't help you," Alphard snapped. "Besides, you're better off without him. He's a weird kid. I'm not buying his act."

Before Grace had the chance to ask for the meaning behind Alphard's words, the tall boy had turned around and sauntered off towards the dungeons. The young girl sighed and stared at Alphard's retreating back; she was not at all surprised that someone as lively as Alphard hadn't become friends with Tom, though it still bothered her that Alphard had been so vague. Should she try to catch Tom after class and force him to talk to her? He most definitely couldn't avoid her then.

Grace sighed again and turned around, only to bump into someone's solid chest.

"What—?" she gasped, but said someone already had an iron hold of her hand and shoved her into the nearest classroom. Grace's back collided with one of the desks and, for a second, she saw stars behind her closed eyelids.

"What were you doing, talking to that fool of a Black?" a voice snarled down at her and Grace opened her big eyes to look right into Tom Riddle's face. His eyes were narrowed and he seemed to be furious as he stalked her like a hawk would its prey. Grace leaned back against the table she had collided with and tried to ignore the pain that shot through her body.

"I'm not quite sure what you're referring to," she said in a firm voice, wondering what Tom was so mad about.

"Let me rephrase my earlier question," Tom answered in a dark voice and stepped closer. "Why were you and Black talking about _me_ behind my back? If there is something you would like to know you should have come straight to me, not ask that insolent—"

"You have been avoiding me for more than a month!" Grace interrupted, her face slowly turning red. "I don't know why, or what I have done to you. You've done nothing except giving me the cold shoulder when I needed a friend who has known me for more than half of my life. And you are telling me I should have come straight to _you_?!"

A noise escaped her mouth that sounded like a snort and Tom clenched his fists.

"I only asked Alphard how you've been lately," Grace said, her voice growing softer again. She looked up at Tom through her thick lashes, her cheeks still tinted red and her small body pressed against the wooden desk. "I thought he might know something."

Grace looked into Tom's dark eyes and let out a sigh.

All of a sudden, Tom was directly in front of her, his long fingers gripping her chin tightly and forcing her to look up into his blazing eyes. Grace winced as his grip tightened, and Tom lowered his face to be at eye level with her. For the first time, Grace believed that Tom was going to hit her.

"It seems you have been roaming these halls with a misconception attached deep within your pretty little mind," Tom whispered, his cool breath hitting her face. Grace whimpered, tears collecting in her blue eyes as she stared right back at the taller boy.

"You are no friend of mine," Tom continued, "nor will you ever be. Stop making a fool of yourself, _Grace_."

He spat out her name as if it were poisonous and let go of her chin. Tears were now streaming down Grace's face but she still didn't look away.

"Why are you doing this?" she asked and winced as Tom raised his hands, but he only straightened his tie. "Why are you being so... _cold_ and distant?"

"You left me at that freaking orphanage all by myself!" Tom hissed. "What did you think, that I would welcome you back with open arms? You chose wealth and a big mansion over—"

Tom faltered and shook his head. "Never mind," he said and turned around. "Just stop getting in my way."

With those words hanging in the air, Tom left. Grace whimpered again and wiped away the tears that were still slowly streaming down her face. How could Tom have been so cruel just now? Did he really think that she had left him behind by _choice_? Grace knew that he had never been one to be led by his emotions but she had dearly missed him and wanted nothing more than to reconcile her differences with Tom.

The small girl sighed and hoisted herself up from the uncomfortable desk she had been leaning against. Her friends were probably already worried about her whereabouts, so Grace slowly made her way back towards the Great Hall where Mary and Gillian were nervously waiting for her. Grace aloofly noticed that most students had already left for their first lesson of the day.

"Where have you been?" Gillian asked concerned, handing Grace her satchel. "We saw you leaving with Black, did he pester you?" Mary was nodding behind the tall blonde.

"No, I just needed to ask him something," Grace said, busily rummaging through her satchel. She noticed Gillian and Mary glancing at each other but chose to ignore it.

"Now, we don't want to be late for Herbology," she said, repeating Alphard's earlier words with a forced smile.

* * *

October slowly faded into November, and November into December. During the last week of classes before the holidays, the grounds were covered in thick blankets of snow and more and more students could be seen outside, engaging in snowball fights. Everyone now dreaded Herbology and Astronomy as it was freezing outside and even the thickest coat wouldn't help in the top-most level of the Astronomy tower. Deep down, Grace didn't mind at all as their last Herbology class of the year got cancelled because of a snow storm; she had despised the subject ever since Mary had been stung by one of the plants and had been sent to the hospital wing with hands two times their normal size.

She and Gillian were hurrying to their last class of the year, Defence Against the Dark Arts, when they bumped into Alphard, Malfoy and Avery. Grace couldn't help but glance behind their backs in hopes that she would find a hidden Tom Riddle. Of course, that was not the case.

Malfoy ogled at Gillian who just sneered at him and flipped her hair.

"Come on, Grace," the blonde said and grabbed her friend's hand, smirking when she caught Malfoy's disappointed look. "We're going to be late for class."

Grace smiled apologetically at Alphard and let herself be dragged along by Gillian who was obviously not very fond of Slytherins. But before the girls had rounded the next corner, a panting Alphard appeared at their sides, looking at Grace expectantly.

"Meet me in the Entrance Hall after dinner?" he asked, brushing some strands of his black hair aside. "I would like to show you something."

Grace could hear Gillian's irritated sigh, but she nodded. "Sure," she answered, and before Alphard had the chance to add anything to his previous words, she and Gillian had disappeared around the corner. The tall blonde immediately rounded on Grace, hands on her hips and a worried look on her face.

"What was that about?" she demanded. "Since when have you been fraternising with the enemy?"

"Oh, relax," Grace laughed, her blue eyes sparkling. "Alphard and I have known each other for years. Our parents are acquainted. Besides, he's not our enemy just because he's a Slytherin."

Gillian looked at Grace as if she had gone mad.

"I also saw Malfoy looking at you," Grace smirked and began walking again. Gillian followed her with a snort.

"He's vile," she just said. "Also, don't try and change the topic. I'm not comfortable with you and that Black being friends. He's trouble, Grace, I can sense it from miles away."

Grace just shook her head and entered the classroom. Alphard and she weren't exactly _friends_, at least in her opinion. She had always enjoyed his company and he was able to make her laugh during their rare study sessions, but she would never dare confide in him which was mostly because of the rest of his family. Grace couldn't stand Alphard's older sister Walburga, an arrogant and nasty girl attending her third year at Hogwarts. She had met Walburga once or twice at the Black's manor and had stayed out of her way ever since. Alphard's parents didn't differ much from their oldest and only daughter, and Grace was always amazed that Alphard, surrounded by his cold-hearted family, had grown up to be such a lovely person.

The two girls sat down at the back of the class and unpacked their books. Gillian looked up when someone approached them and nudged Grace, forcing her to look up from her things as well. It was Simon Walker, a Ravenclaw in their year. He was fidgeting and blushing, and again Gillian blessed them with her famous annoyed sigh.

"I have a message for you from Tom Riddle," Simon mumbled clearly uncomfortable, starring at Grace. "He wants to meet you in the Entrance Hall after dinner."

* * *

Gillian had been furious that Grace was now meeting _two_ Slytherins and was trying hard to persuade her friend that meeting neither of the two boys would be the safest option.

"Besides, I highly doubt either of them will be pleased to see that they apparently had the same idea of meeting you," Gillian argued for the umpteenth time when Grace was leaving for the Entrance Hall.

"I'll be back soon," the brunette huffed. "It's not like I'm going on a date with either of them."

All day, Grace had been trying to figure out what Tom would be wanting from her. He had made it perfectly clear that he neither enjoyed nor wanted her company, and had successfully avoided her since that fateful day in October. It still hurt, but Grace had never been one to impose herself on others, especially not Tom. Maybe Simon Walker had only played a prank on her, she thought with a sour taste in her mouth.

Grace peeked out of the double doors into the Hall and spotted Alphard standing in front of the house point hourglasses. He seemed slightly nervous and was constantly running his fingers through his black hair. Since Tom was nowhere to be seen, Grace hurried towards Alphard, a small smile gracing her lips when she saw the relieved look on his tanned face.

"Hey," she said amicably, stopping in front of the taller boy. "As requested, here I am."

Alphard grinned, handing over a small package. It was wrapped in glossy paper with a small red ribbon on top. Grace accepted the package, surprise written all over her face. "What—"

"I just wanted to get you something," Alphard said almost shyly and Grace raised her eyebrows. "You know, with Christmas and your birthday coming up. But don't open it yet, I want it to be a surprise until your actual birthday."

Grace didn't know what to say. She was slightly embarrassed that Alphard seemed to know all about her birthday when she couldn't even remember his.

"Thank you so much, Alphard," she uttered and pressed the package to her chest. "I don't even know what to say."

Alphard just shrugged and grinned again.

"As long as you like it, I'm happy," he said, and Grace knew that he meant it. She leaned up on her tiptoes and kissed the black-haired boy on the cheek. Alphard blushed scarlet and Grace laughed loudly.

Though, when Alphard suddenly stared at someone behind Grace and yelled, "Oi, Riddle, what'chu looking at?", Grace whipped around, her laughter dying in her throat.

Tom stood in front of the marble staircase, hands in his trousers' pockets, an elusive look on his face. For someone who didn't really know Tom that well he might have come across as bored but Grace had known Tom long enough to see fury glinting in his dark eyes. Grace and Tom stared at each other for a second before Tom turned around lazily, walking off towards the dungeons.

With one last desperate look at Alphard, Grace left him standing there and hurried off to atone for her mistakes.

* * *

**Guys, I'm SO sorry that it has taken me so long to update. Really, I am. After CountOnIllusions review, I knew I needed to update again asap, so here I am.**

**Please READ &amp; REVIEW and tell me what you think!**


	5. Atonement

**Chapter 4: Atonement**

* * *

There was a soft knock at the bedroom door, making Grace pull her blanket over her head and burrow her face deep into the soft feather pillow. She knew that the sun had already gone up, though she felt no motivation to leave her bed at all today— or any day, for that matter. There was another knock and Grace groaned as she heard the door creak open.

"You need to get up, sweetie," the soft voice of her adoptive mother called. "It's already past 9 am."

"I don't care," Grace mumbled, her voice muffled by the pillow.

She heard her mother crossing the room, and at the next second the mattress slightly sank under her weight as she sat down. A hand slowly pulled the blanket away from Grace's face and she squinted at Maggy Durand's face.

"Happy birthday, Grace," she smiled and kissed her cheek. Out of the corner of her eyes, Grace saw Miles enter the room, carrying a large birthday cake, but Maggy quietly shooed him away, probably thinking that Grace hadn't noticed. She turned around to smile at her adoptive daughter again and petted her dishevelled hair.

"What's wrong, my dear?" she asked, concern written all over her face. "You have been quite distant ever since you came back from school. Did something happen with one of the other children?"

"No," Grace lied, looking anywhere but her mother's face. She sensed that Maggy didn't believe her.

"Did you have a fight with Gillian?" Maggy demanded. "Or any of the other girls?"

"No, mother— I've just not been feeling well," Grace lied again and leaned back into her pillow. Tom's angry face flashed before her eyes and she closed them, trying not to remember the day he had wanted to meet her in the Entrance Hall.

"_Tom, wait!" Grace called out of breath, running after Tom who was hurrying down the hall towards the dungeons. Tom suddenly whipped around and stalked towards Grace's figure, his hands now balled to angry fists._

"_Leave me the hell alone," he hissed at her face as he came to a halt in front of her. He was towering over her, his hair slightly dishevelled and his eyes gleaming in the dark. "Go back to your dim-witted Black and leave me alone."_

_With that, he started to walk away again._

"_Wait!" Grace yelled, suddenly feeling very angry at Tom and his manners. The tall boy stopped again and glanced over his shoulder._

"_Why must you be so confusing?" Grace cried and marched down the hall right up to Tom. "One minute you want to see me and talk to me, the next you're pushing me away and tell me I should leave. I was just _talking _to Alphard so I really don't understand the issue at hand. Why do you always succeed in making me feel completely and utterly worthless?"_

"_Because you _are_!" Tom sneered, looking down at her. Grace winced at his words. "Besides, who said I wanted to talk to you? Didn't I tell you to stay out of my way a few weeks ago?"_

"_Simon Walker said—"_

"_Simon Walker!" Tom interrupted her and grimaced. "Don't make me laugh, Grace. If I had wanted to talk to you, I would have come to you straight away."_

_They stared at each other for a long time and Grace felt tears pricking her eyes. Alphard and his present were already long forgotten, Tom's cruelty being the only thing clogging her senses. The fact that Grace could hear the lie behind Tom's words made the whole situation even worse, and she began to sob._

"_I have to go," Tom sighed, leaving her all by herself again._

"Grace?" Maggy asked cautiously, interrupting Grace's train of thoughts. "Are you sure you're alright?"

"Yes, thank you," answered Grace, forcing a smile. To stop her mother from worrying, she grabbed Alphard's present, which had been lying on her bedside table ever since she'd come back home, and began to open it.

"Oh, young Alphard's present," Maggy observed and peered inside the box when Grace had opened it.

Inside were a beautiful silver bracelet and a card that said "_Happy birthday, Grace! Cheers to being friends and study partners for the next six years and beyond. Yours, Alphard Black."_ Grace smiled softly, handed Maggy the card and put on the bracelet.

"It's lovely!" exclaimed Maggy and hugged her daughter. "If that doesn't cheer you up, I'm at a loss."

Grace stared at the bracelet and began toying with it.

"Can I ask you something?" she suddenly asked and looked up at Maggy's friendly face. She nodded. "How come none of the other pure-blood families know about my past? I mean, it must have been quite weird for them to see a young girl running around the mansion all of a sudden. Furthermore," here she stopped and blushed, "wouldn't you be too old to have a biological daughter?"

Maggy laughed heartily.

"Oh dear," she said and shook her head, still smiling. "You shouldn't worry about such trivial things, Grace. We simply told them you had been staying with my sister on the countryside because of your poor health. As for us being _too_ _old_," she winked, "you were our little miracle."

Grace frowned, but then grinned. "I'm quite healthy, thank you very much."

And with that she got out of bed and got ready for the day.

* * *

The snow was falling heavily outside as Tom stared out of the small window at Wool's Orphanage. He had been forced to return during the Christmas holidays as he would've been the only student staying back at Hogwarts, and Headmaster Dippet had decided against it. Tom grimaced. There were only two hours left of this wretched day, and he was quite glad that, again, no one had remembered his birthday besides Mrs Cole. He could hear some of the other children running down the hall, already excited that the older ones were allowed to light up some smaller fireworks to bring in the New Year. Of course, Tom wouldn't participate in such childish acts.

He turned around and sat down at the small wooden desk— Mrs Cole's present, a new pencil case which he obviously wouldn't need at Hogwarts, was still lying there, untouched. Tom frowned as he began to toy with the case's lid. Not that it bothered him, but this was the first time he had neither heard nor received anything from Grace. The foolish girl had probably already forgotten about him the minute she'd set foot in her _new_ home.

With slight annoyance, Tom sensed some weird feeling bubbling up inside of him, though he quickly repressed it.

He knew that Grace had seen through his lies on that day in the Entrance Hall, and it angered him. Tom unlocked and opened the top drawer of his desk, pulling out the two files he had nicked from Mrs Cole's office right before he had left for Hogwarts; she still had to notice their absence from her folder.

On their last day of classes before the break, Tom had finally decided to show Grace her file, and had later deeply regretted that decision. That worthless girl had chosen a jolly good time with Black over his precious information, at least that was how _he_ saw it.

Tom skimmed through Grace's file which only consisted of the letter Grace had had on her person, and her birth certificate, most spaces having been left blank. Her birthplace seemed to be unknown, as well as her heritage. Only Grace's date of birth and the names of her supposed parents had been registered.

"Jane Edith Parker and G. E. C. G.," Tom read out loud and furrowed his brow. Wasn't it customary for a child to take their father's last name, especially when their parents weren't married? Also, how come only her mother's name was known but not her father's, or rather only his initials? Tom smoothed out the letter which he had found in Grace's file and read it for the umpteenth time.

"_To A. P. W. B. D.,_

_I cannot take it anymore. I have born a monster. All I see is ... flames licking at my skin and the fire burning me, until only my ashes are left. Take her. TAKE HER. _

_Wreaking havoc, playfully so. His demon child, spewing flames wherever it goes._

_Please, just take the pain away from me._

_Yours, J. E. P."_

Tom frowned. He still hadn't found out to whom the letter was addressed, nor did he fully understand its content. The only thing he was certain of— Grace's mother must have been barking mad, writing about monsters and demons and fire. He was also sure that someone must've talked to Mrs Cole after Grace's sudden appearance at the orphanage as both her date of birth and her mother's name had been registered, two things the letter obviously didn't inform of.

With a flick of his hand, Tom closed Grace's file and opened his own, the one which was definitely more important to him. Both his place and date of birth had been listed, as well as his parents' names. Tom Riddle Sr. and Merope Riddle, the last name was followed by a question mark in brackets.

Tom nodded approvingly. Soon, he would finally return to Hogwarts and resume the search for his father's name and ancestry. He was sure that Merope Riddle, the woman who had died giving birth to him, could have been nothing more than a mere, ordinary Muggle.

* * *

During the second half of their first year, Grace tried to stay away from Tom. Letting go of their friendship, at least that was how Grace had always seen their relationship, proved to be quite difficult for the brunette, though, and she couldn't bring herself to stop shooting furtive glances at Tom when she thought he wasn't looking.

Alphard didn't seem to be too mad at having been left alone in the Entrance Hall back in December, and tried to spend more time with Grace. Now that exams were coming up and the weather was getting sunnier and warmer, Alphard used every given chance to study with Grace and her friends, a fact which annoyed not only Mary but especially Gillian.

Alphard's friends had also taken notice of the boy's rising interest in Grace and displayed their disapproval by beginning to spend more time with Tom. Befriending a Gryffindor didn't seem to be too high on their list of things-to-do-at-Hogwarts.

Grace knew that Tom thought his newest companions to be absolutely bothersome, though he didn't shy away from taking advantage of them. Once, when Grace and Gillian were studying in the library on a windy day in May, they saw Alexander Avery fetching books for Tom from one of the highest shelves, the latter just lazily sitting at one of the desks while writing an essay. Grace made sure to shoot Tom a dirty look when Avery tumbled on the chair and crashed down on the hard floor.

"Are you okay?" asked Grace, hurrying to Avery's side and trying to help him up, but Avery only stared at her with wide eyes and scurried off. Grace turned around to look at Tom and saw him smirking at her— she shuddered to think that he might have forbidden his minions to talk to her.

"Did you see that?" Grace asked Gillian upon returning to their table.

"Avery's a weird kid, don't mind him," Gillian just said and shrugged.

As the first exams approached in the beginning of June, Grace and Alphard found themselves studying in the library until sunset almost every day. Gillian and Mary had already left, and Grace was trying to stifle her yawns while skimming through her notes on Potions.

"I can't believe we've got only three weeks left until the summer holidays," Alphard said and yawned as well, loudly. Grace could see the frustration in his eyes and put her quill aside.

"Aren't you excited?" she asked.

"No, not really ... you know my family; I usually have a much better time at Hogwarts than I have with them at home."

Grace hummed. She was eagerly anticipation the ride back home. She would most definitely miss her friends and even Alphard, but returning home meant getting away from Tom and her longings for his approval. He hadn't talked to her since December, except for that one time during Potions when they were partnered with one another, and Grace was still trying to find a way of making him look at her again. If her friends knew, they would most likely disapprove and call her desperate, a thought that scared Grace more than anything.

"You seem to be excited to get back home," Alphard laughed and leant back in his seat. "Finally getting away from Riddle and his taunting, eh?"

He had only meant it as a joke, but Grace bit her lip and looked down at her notes with shiny eyes. Alphard shifted uncomfortably.

"Hey, I was just joking," he offered, reaching over the table and taking her hand. "Everyone knows that Riddle's a git who doesn't like anyone except maybe the teachers."

Grace looked up. "He's got _some_ friends."

Alphard rolled his eyes. "Yeah, right," he snorted. "If you call taking notes and carrying someone else's stuff 'being friends' I'm at a loss."

The brunette smiled softly, but slowly pulled her hand away from Alphard's.

"Why are you always so concerned for Riddle anyway?" asked Alphard, again leaning back and ruffling his black hair. "I never see you two hanging out— apart from that, he's a royal prat when he has to talk to either of us."

"I met him at ... back when I was still staying at my aunt's country estate," Grace lied. "He was living nearby and I met him from time to time."

"I remember him telling me and the others that your parents are acquainted."

Grace faltered. "Um, yes, my parents invited his family over for some tea when they were visiting my aunt and me. That's how they know one another."

Alphard's face turned into a blank mask. "Isn't he an orphan, though?"

Silence filled the room as the two friends stared at each other. How did Alphard know, for heaven's sake? Had he been testing her all along, trying to figure out whom of the two had been lying? Grace's hands felt sweaty, but she held the boy's gaze. Him knowing of Tom's past didn't mean that he knew about hers, right?

However, before Grace had the chance to come up with a witty answer, someone approached their table, hands behind their back.

"Can I talk to you for a minute?" Tom Riddle asked Grace, his complexion pale and his eyes tired. Grace just gaped at him, all of her previous thoughts of Tom and his behaviour vanishing within seconds. Alphard took advantage of the brunette's silence and frowned at Tom.

"Speak of the devil," he said dryly, acknowledging Tom's presence with a curt nod. "Riddle."

"Black," Tom drawled, nodded, and turned back to Grace. "Now, shall we?"

He made a gesture towards the double doors and Grace got up slowly, gathering her things and trying to avoid Alphard's furious gaze.

"You cannot just leave," he said, standing up as well. "Don't let him order you around."

"As a matter-of-fact she can," replied Tom with amusement in his voice. "Besides, I was asking, not ordering."

Alphard shot him a dirty look.

"It's okay, Alphard," Grace said slowly, looking up at the taller boy with a fleeting smile. "We'll meet again after dinner tomorrow. Tom and I are just going to talk, don't worry."

She glanced at Tom who was rolling his eyes, but decided to ignore it. They hurried out of the library and, again, Grace felt sudden guilt flooding her insides.

"You need to work on that habit of yours of interrupting my conversations with Alphard," she hissed at Tom, and followed him into an empty classroom. "It's quite rude."

"Yes, yes," sneered Tom and waved his hand. "Now, let's talk."

"Oh, so now we're back to talking?" Grace folded her arms and sat down on one of the chairs. "You can't just come and do as you please while showing no respect for other people's feelings."

Grace saw the anger in Tom's eyes yet he didn't respond.

"Anyway," he said after a while and sat down opposite Grace. "I needed to talk to you about something important. But first we have to discuss our ... _disagreement_."

"What—"

"You see, dear Grace, I don't simply forgive and forget. Though it seems I have to look past my anger and do exactly that for us to ... work together."

"'Work together'? What are you talking about?" Grace was, by now, utterly confused. Maybe Tom had secretly tried some of the Firewhiskey she knew Malfoy had hidden in the trunk under his bed.

The black-haired boy cleared his throat. "I stole our files from Mrs Cole. I would like for us to find out more about our heritage— together. I've already done some research but nothing has come up so far. I think it would be more convenient with an extra pair of hands."

He looked at Grace who seemed to be in shock.

"You— you stole our files?" she whispered and moved closer to Tom. "When? What did they say? Do you have them on you right now?"

Tom just raised his eyebrows and gazed out of the window behind Grace.

"I nicked them from her office around a year ago," he admitted after a while. "I'll show them to you once I have forgiven you for your behaviour."

"_A year ago_?" Grace cried with big eyes. "And you're telling me _now_?" She tried to calm herself and shifted in her seat. Mulling over Tom's last words, Grace looked up at the boy in front of her. She still didn't know why but he must have been fuming these past few months, and as Tom had said, her behaviour was one of the reasons why he hadn't shown or told her about the files any sooner. Grace felt a pang of guilt in her chest. What had she done wrong for Tom to be so angry with her? After all, _he_ had been the one ignoring _her_, not the other way around, and still _she_ was the one feeling guilty.

"Why do you hate me so?" Grace whispered and clutched her chest. "I've been nothing but nice to you and it's still not enough."

"It will never be enough, Grace," Tom said nonchalantly and stood up. "You left me all by myself, chose an ordinary life as a _Gryffindor_ over the path leading to success and greatness."

"I didn't have a choice!" the brunette yelled, leaping to her feet.

"You've always had a choice!" Tom shouted back, staring her down. Silence filled the room as the two stared at each other. Grace could sense the anger Tom emitted and decided to back down.

"What can I do to make it up to you?" asked Grace after some time, her voice barely audible.

Tom was pacing up and down, and came to a sudden halt in front of her. He turned around slowly and pulled his wand out of his trousers' back pocket. Grace stiffened when she saw the glint in Tom's eyes as he stared at his wand.

"Atonement," Tom whispered vacantly. He continued when he caught Grace looking at him with wide eyes. "There's something I've always wanted to try. I know they are strictly forbidden, though no one will know as long as you keep quiet."

He raised his wand and mumbled a quick '_Muffliato_', and Grace suddenly knew what was waiting for her. She ignored her trembling hands as she began to lie down on the cold floor.

Tom swallowed while his eyes followed Grace's every movement. He had expected her to shout and start crying, even for her to run out of the room and call for her worthless Black— not to lie down in front of him and be so ... submissive. Time seemed to pause as Tom regarded the girl in front of him; with her pale skin, her blood red lips and her dark hair, which was surrounding her like a halo, Grace looked like an angel. An angel of death.

Shivering, Tom raised his wand, never breaking eye contact.

"This is going to hurt," he said, stepping closer.

"I know," Grace just answered quietly. "I'm ready, Tom."

And with that, he raised his wand again and muttered the forbidden words which send a thrill through his entire body.

"_Crucio_."

* * *

**So Grace is the first one Tom is using an Unforgivable on. I thought that if he was able to control Billy Stubbs' rabbit at a very young age, he also must've been able to use the Unforgivables during his earlier years at Hogwarts- what do you think?**

**Also, I've noticed that a number of people have favourited and tons have viewed/read this story but haven't left any reviews. Please do so as I work really hard on this story, and your constructive criticism really helps me grow as a 'writer' :) Thus thanks to the readers who've left a review so far, I love you all!**


	6. The Trophy Room

**Chapter 5: The Trophy Room**

* * *

"We're never going to find anything!" Grace complained for the umpteenth time that evening and lay her head down on the table she and Tom were sitting at. The old pages felt cool against her cheek and she closed her eyes for a second, trying to fight the fatigue that was threatening to overcome her after a long day of study and research.

After a while, Grace cracked her eyes open and regarded Tom's side profile. He seemed to be lost in thought, absorbing the book in front of him with a blank expression on his face, only moving to take notes from time to time. Tom hadn't said a word since they had arrived at the empty classroom near the dungeons, and it was beginning to irritate Grace. Hadn't they decided to research _together_, to exchange their ideas and findings?

Months had passed since Tom had cast the Cruciatus Curse on her. Grace had never felt such excruciating pain before, and Tom had only stopped after she had started to cough up blood. As Grace had been more than willing to suffer through Tom's punishment, she refrained from blaming him later, though she would never forget the pain she had been in. Her parents had been deeply concerned when she had returned home, still ghostly pale and with bloodshot eyes, but she had quickly dismissed them and had spent the rest of the summer holidays either in her room or in the adjoining garden, obsessing over her birthmother's letter which Tom had given her.

Tom had chided her upon returning to Hogwarts, complaining that Grace hadn't even tried to find anything about their heritage even though he himself hadn't been able to come up with any new information. He then had quickly decided that they would meet in the classroom near the portrait of the three drunken monks every fortnight, and that she shouldn't dare tell anyone about their meetings, especially not Gillian or Alphard. By now, it was already the beginning of December, and neither of them had found anything about their parents. The absence of the name of Grace's father didn't spur their research in the slightest.

The brunette sighed as she sat up— the sun had already set, and Grace was feeling exhausted.

"Let's call it a day," she suggested, looking at Tom expectantly. For a second, Grace thought Tom was going to ignore her again, but then he finally closed his book with an annoyed sigh and turned around to face her.

"I'm not quite sure you're taking this seriously, Grace," Tom growled at her. "You've been nothing but a nuisance."

"Of course I'm taking this seriously!" Grace cried and crossed her arms. "But we've been searching for months and still haven't found anything. It's quite frustrating, you know?"

"Stop being so naïve," hissed Tom and gripped Grace's wrist tightly so that his nails were digging into her pale skin. "Did you honestly think we would be successful after our first meeting?"

She winced as Tom's nails dug deeper into her skin.

"Do you think I enjoy spending my precious time with you and those old, musty books?" Tom waved his hand dismissively and gave a cruel laugh.

"Stop being so rude!" Grace snapped and snatched her hand away. Anger flashed in Tom's dark eyes but he refrained from continuing their argument.

"Did it ever occur to you that our parents might have been ... non-magical?" Grace continued, getting up to pace back and forth, her heels clicking on the ground. "Or that they never attended Hogwarts, but some other school that we don't even know of?"

"Of course it did, I'm not dense," Tom snapped and leaned back in his chair. "But even if they attended some other school, their names should have come up in the register. And it's preposterous to assume that either my or your parents were _Muggles_."

He spat out the last word with venom in his voice and Grace glared at him. She turned on the spot, snatched up her books and parchments, and hurried towards the door.

"Where do you think you're going?" asked Tom brusquely, grabbed his things and rushed after Grace.

"I'm going back to my dorm," answered Grace matter-of-factly. She tried to stay angry with Tom and his behaviour towards others, especially his opinion regarding people lacking magical blood, but she just couldn't when she gazed at him in the dimly-lit hallway, at his tired and handsome face.

"It's almost past curfew," she tried again. "We will continue our research after the Christmas holidays, alright?"

Tom just pursed his lips, turned around and sauntered off towards the dungeons.

* * *

The next morning, Grace was in a cranky mood. She hadn't slept much and had tried to avoid Gillian's pestering where she had been during dinner and the rest of the evening. The girls didn't seem to buy her lie when she told them that she had been studying in the library all evening, and Gillian's eyes darkened when Catherine, one of their roommates, piped up that, strangely, she hadn't seen Grace although she'd been studying there as well.

"Were you meeting Black again?" Gillian hissed while the others were getting ready for bed. Grace just scowled at her, and closed the curtains surrounding her four-poster bed.

Her mood didn't brighten after breakfast and reached its all-time low during Potions. Grace had never been one to be easily annoyed or testy but Malfoy turned out to be the first person to cut through Grace's thick line separating composure from petulance. After they had been teamed up to work on a Sleeping Draught, Malfoy kept on pestering her about last night.

"A little bird told me that you and Riddle have been meeting in secret for a while now," he smirked, crushing sprigs of Lavender with a pestle. "Is it true, Grace? Is it?"

His eyes were gleaming with mischief when he turned to look at her. Grace stared at the back of Tom's head two rows in front of them and decided to ignore Malfoy— Tom would have her head on a platter if she ever were to tell anyone about their secret meetings and their shared past at Wool's Orphanage. She could feel Malfoy's eyes on her, though she refrained from paying him any attention.

"Aw, Gracie, come on," Malfoy cooed and nudged her. "We've known each other for years, you can tell me."

Grace gritted her teeth in silent fury and concentrated on violently chopping the Sopophorous beans for their potion. Alphard had always warned her about his cousin's nosiness, but she'd never been on the receiving end up until now.

"Just drop it, Abraxas," Grace muttered so Slughorn couldn't hear her as he was waddling by. But Malfoy just waggled his eyebrows.

"Then Riddle wouldn't mind if you and I were to meet in secret, right?" he whispered in her ear.

Grace lost it. The next thing she knew, their Sleeping Draught exploded and showered Malfoy with Flobberworm Mucus. The rest of the class whipped around to look for the culprit, and Slughorn turned bright red when he tried to calm a shrieking Malfoy. As the explosion hadn't hit Grace, the Slytherins were eyeing her warily while the Gryffindors, including Alphard, roared with laughter. Tom had moved to the front of the class and stared at Grace with scrutiny.

"You look ridiculous!" Alphard gasped, shaking with laughter. Malfoy was still covered in thick slime and glared at his cousin with blazing eyes.

"Now, now," Slughorn wheezed, waving his wand to rid Malfoy of the sticky mucus. "How did this happen, Mr Malfoy?"

"It was Durand!" someone called, and Grace startled to see Olive Hornby pointing at her with malicious joy in her eyes. Grace had never liked Olive, an arrogant and pointy-nosed Slytherin girl with blonde locks and big green eyes, who liked to bully people into doing her homework and essays for her. Olive sneered at Grace when Slughorn turned to look at the brunette with disappointment.

"Is that true, Ms Durand?" he asked, but before Grace had the chance to deny anything, Olive's best friend Lauretta English claimed that, yes, she had also seen Grace wave her wand to let the potion explode, how else could it be that only Malfoy had been hit?

"Detention, Ms Durand," Slughorn sighed and cleaned up the rest of the mess that had been made. "And 50 points from Gryffindor."

"But I didn't—!" cried Grace, but Slughorn interrupted her with a dismissive wave of his meaty hand. Olive and Lauretta giggled, Alphard and Gillian grinned, and Malfoy stared at her, appalled.

"Well done," whispered Gillian after Potions as the class was streaming out of the dungeons and straight to the Great Hall for lunch. "You made my dreams come true."

"I didn't do anything!" Grace claimed and slammed her satchel on the table next to Mary. "Malfoy was giving me a headache as usual, and the next thing I know our potion had blown up. I didn't even have my wand on me."

"There's still wandless magic," Catherine suggested, pointing her fork at Grace as the brunette sat down across from her. Gillian nodded vehemently.

Sighing, Grace scooped some vegetables and potatoes onto her plate. "Guys, I swear it wasn't me. It seems I owe my first detention to Malfoy and 'Mr Stranger'."

"Malfoy's a git, he deserved it," Gillian declared and patted Grace's back. "And I'm sure your detention with Slughorn will be bearable. Oh, and before I forget it, could I borrow your notes on today's lesson?"

Rolling her eyes, Grace opened her satchel to fetch her notes, when a small piece of paper caught her eye. She took one quick glance at her friends to see that they had continued chatting animatedly, and unfolded the note. Written in elegant cursive letters, Grace had no doubt about who had put it into her satchel, and her heart was beating fast as she peeked at the Slytherin table.

_I'll try to be a little more subtle next time._

_-T._

* * *

Grace's detention took place after the Christmas holidays. As Gillian's parents had to go on a business trip to France, she had spent most of the holidays with Grace and her family, and Grace had had no opportunity to proceed with her research. Her thirteenth birthday had come and gone, and so had Tom's.

On a Friday night in the middle of January, Grace had to serve her detention, her sentence being to clean the trophies in the trophy room without using magic. Dumbledore, as Head of Gryffindor House, had listened to Slughorn's recital of the events with a cheerful smile on his face.

"I think Ms Durand has learned her lesson," he said with twinkling eyes, and Grace accepted the bucket and cleaning rag from Pringle, Hogwarts' caretaker, with a nod.

To Grace's surprise, Alphard was waiting for her in front of the trophy room. He was grinning from ear to ear while he regarded the brunette's attire and opened the door for her with a smooth push.

"Are you here to gloat over my bad luck?" Grace laughed, placing the bucket on the only empty table in the room. The rest were decorated with awards, trophies, cups, shields, and medals, some of them kept in crystal glass displays. The portrait of an old man with a pointy moustache hung on one of the walls, glaring down at the two students.

"You know that I want to witness your first detention," said Alphard and closed the door behind him. Nonchalantly, he leant against the wall and whistled. "Nice place!"

Grace glanced up while she wrung out the cleaning rag.

"You have to receive fewer detentions if you ever want to see your name up here," she said and smiled.

Alphard's face turned a deep shade of red and he coughed sheepishly.

"Nah, I don't want to be some boring old goody two-shoes," he said after a while and regarded the medals kept in one of the displays right next to the door. Grace just shrugged her shoulders and began her tedious work of cleaning the room's floor. From time to time, she glanced up at Alphard to see him move about the room while looking at the various awards and trophies. His black hair was slightly longer than usual and his tanned skin was a nice contrast to the dark sweater and trousers he was wearing, and Grace had to admit with a furious blush that Alphard was indeed quite handsome.

Furiously, she kept scrubbing the floor, trying to distract herself from her thoughts. She had met Alphard shortly after moving in with the Durands, namely at her father's birthday in September 1935. He and Malfoy had tried to impress her and some other children with some boring tricks but, nevertheless, Grace had found Alphard quite charming. Having always resided in his family's shadow, Alphard constantly tried to distinguish himself from others, and only played pranks on his peers with his cousin to be the centre of attention.

_He hasn't had the most glorious childhood either_, Grace thought sadly and observed Alphard closely examining the list of Head Boys and Head Girls.

"I didn't know Dumbledore was Head Boy back in the day," the black-haired boy voiced and pointed at the long list.

"I'm sorry, what did you say?" asked Grace, not having paid attention to what Alphard had said.

"Dumbledore was Head Boy from 1898 until 1899— pretty cool, huh?" Alphard repeated, squinting at the yellowed parchment. "With some girl named Jane Parker. They look comely."

He turned around to waggle his eyebrows suggestively, but Grace was staring at him with wide eyes, the cleaning rag hanging limply from her hands.

"I beg your pardon?" she whispered and rushed to Alphard's side to take a look at the list and photo Alphard had mentioned.

On the list it said: _Dumbledore, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian and Jane Edith Parker, Head Boy and Head Girl, 1898 – 1899_. Next to their names was a tiny black-and-white photo of a young Dumbledore and a stunning girl with long, dark hair and perfectly white teeth. The pair was smiling at each other, and waved at the camera.

How could Tom have missed this? Grace clenched her fists as she was suddenly overcome with anger at both Tom and Dumbledore. Maybe Tom _had_ found her mother's name next to Dumbledore's, but had decided against telling her— maybe his maliciousness had reached its peak, though Grace hoped this wasn't the case. However, the fact that _Dumbledore_, the one who had sent her to live at the orphanage and had seemed to have known her birthmother all along, had left her standing in the dark made her blood boil. The letter ... _A. P. W. B. D._ ... it all made sense now.

"Is something wrong?" asked Alphard concerned and placed a hand on Grace's shoulder. She flinched at his touch but only kept on staring at her mother's beautiful face.

"I have to go," Grace said suddenly and turned towards the door. "I have to find Professor Dumbledore."

"Would you _please_ tell me what's wrong?" exclaimed Alphard and grasped Grace's hand to hold her back. His brown eyes mirrored confusion and panic, apparently thinking that Grace's sudden flight was his fault.

No longer able to contain herself, Grace burst into tears and turned around to embrace a startled Alphard. Half a year ago, Grace hadn't even known her birthmother's name, and now she had found out that Jane Parker had not only attended Hogwarts but had been her Head of House's classmate. It was too much to handle at present.

"What has gotten into you?" Alphard asked kindly and patted Grace's brown curls. "Is the thought of Albus and Jane dating too much to handle?" he asked with an attempt at a joke to cheer up the crying girl in his arms, but at the thought of Dumbledore and her mother dating, Grace wept even harder.

Alphard escorted her to the empty table and sat Grace down on it. He carefully looked at her tear-stained face and exhaled, seemingly relieved.

"You don't seem to be hurt," he explained, and Grace sniffed. "But now you have to tell me what has ruined your mood all of a sudden. I hope it wasn't something I've said."

Smiling, Alphard took Grace's hand in his, yet Grace remained silent.

* * *

When Black returned to their dormitory and told Malfoy about his encounter with Grace in a hushed tone, Tom was livid. He listened to the fool's complaining that he hadn't been able to console Grace after she had burst into tears.

_Damn it!_ Tom thought and furiously scribbled something into his diary. He had long ago put a spell on the leather book so that it would appear empty when troublemakers like Black or Malfoy dared to open it. _Bloody hell_, he thought again, closed the diary and cast it aside. It seemed Grace had found the key to her heritage— Dumbledore. Tom had already discovered her mother's name on the Head Boy and Head Girl list weeks ago, but given that he deeply despised Dumbledore and his beliefs, Tom had decided against telling Grace about his findings, at least for now.

Tom gritted his teeth as he thought about his Professor who had been keeping a very close watch on him lately. Too close, in Tom's opinion. He wanted nothing more than to find out all about his wizarding heritage and to abandon Grace as soon as he had done exactly that.

He only hoped Grace would seek him out before talking to Dumbledore. He needed her by his side so that no one would dare to thwart his plans.

Leaning back against his pillow, Tom smiled darkly. He suddenly realised he needn't worry— he had already wrapped Grace around his finger.

* * *

**Cheers to millie, CountOnIllusions, Daiane Dana and sohuii— your reviews made my day(s)!**

**I hope Grace's slight change in character was apparent. She's not as naive as she used to be, but will she ever be able to stand up to Tom? We'll see ;) On a different note, I went to Disneyland Paris last week and it was amazing! I've had 'Do You Want to Build a Snowman?' stuck in my head ever since going to the Frozen Sing-Along Celebration haha.**

**Please, please, please READ &amp; REVIEW. (Also, sorry for re-uploading; there seemed to be some mistakes, but I've fixed them now.)**


	7. Downfall

**Chapter 6: Downfall**

* * *

Tom had never underestimated his powers of persuasion because he simply didn't _have to_. He was charming when he had to be, he was brilliant when it was expected of him— a model student on the outside, which had earned him the trust and respect of his teachers. That Dumbledore was the sole exception to this somewhat bothered Tom, though he firmly believed that his time would also come.

Convincing Grace to _not_ seek out Dumbledore had been difficult but not impossible. As expected, Grace had confronted Tom after the Christmas holidays, yelling and crying, and being the usual disturbance in Tom's daily routine. He had apologised, his fingers crossed behind his back, and had convinced her that he had done it out of consideration and that he most definitely would've told her sooner or later.

At first, Grace had been wary but finally saw reason when Tom mentioned that Dumbledore mustn't find out about the stolen files at all costs. Letting the Transfiguration professor in on their secret wasn't very high on Tom's list, but he grudgingly allowed Grace to confront Dumbledore if they hadn't found out anything about her mother by the end of the year. Tom knew he was running out of time.

The summer holidays arrived, and Tom and Grace _still_ hadn't come up with something new. By now they only knew about Grace's mother having been Head Girl and part of the Charms Club from 1896 until her graduation in 1899, and that she apparently had been close friends with Dumbledore. In the meantime, Tom slowly realised and tried to accept the fact that his father never attended Hogwarts or any other magical school. It gnawed at his pride but he decided to finally take a closer look at his mother's name after the holidays.

* * *

Grace was reluctant to return home during the summer. In Glasgow, she didn't have any chance to continue her studies with Tom, and neither was she able to keep a close eye on Dumbledore, which she had done ever since she'd seen her mother's name on the Head Girl list. Tom had forbidden her to speak to Dumbledore about Jane Parker as that would ultimately result in Dumbledore finding out about the stolen files, though she craved nothing more.

During the first two weeks back home, Grace mostly stayed in her room or wandered about the gardens and the lake nearby. Her constant state of reservation and sulkiness worried her adoptive parents, so Grace tried to flee the mansion as often as possible. When the days grew even hotter, she snuck out of her room in the early mornings, grabbed the basket of fruits Miles had prepared for her, and hurried to the lake to find a shady place beneath the trees. She didn't feel like talking to her parents about her secret meetings with Tom and she was sick of the lies she had fed them ever since returning home. At the same time, Grace couldn't shake the feeling that Maggy and Frederick Durand knew more about her past than they let on— and by now she was even more suspicious given that the Durands were close friends with Dumbledore.

Grace sighed as she leaned back. The grass was still moist from the dew though she hadn't cared when she had sat down on the grass, clad in a white dress. It was still early, probably around 9 am if Grace had to guess, but the sun was already raising high in the sky, warming up the fields and meadows. Grace was rummaging in the basket Miles had given her when she heard a branch snap behind her, and she whirled around.

A tall, young girl had appeared out of the bushes right behind Grace. A cigarette was dangling from her lips and she was swearing under her breath while trying to get rid of the dirt on her very short skirt. The girl looked up when Grace cleared her throat, her black hair falling over her right eye, and she seemed surprised to having stumbled upon someone.

"Don't mind me, I'm just enjoying the weather," said Grace after a while when the girl still hadn't said anything. She just stared at the younger girl with hooded eyes and took a long drag from her cigarette.

"Do you live in the village down the hill?" Grace asked, observing the tall girl in front of her.

The girl wrinkled her nose, nodded and took another drag from her cigarette before she flipped it into the lake.

"You shouldn't litter," Grace said drily. The girl laughed, loud and resounding, and turned around with twinkling eyes.

"You sound like my mother," she mused, and Grace heard that her voice was clear and full of confidence. "I'm Adelaide, by the way. And I must say I've never seen you around here before—"

"Grace."

Adelaide plopped down next to Grace, her skirt rising high and revealing her stockings, though the dark-haired girl didn't seem to mind. She twirled her long hair and eyed Grace with great interest.

"I bet you're attending that all-girls-school in East Kilbride, right?" Adelaide asked and leaned back. "You seem to be very prim and proper."

"And you are rather rude," Grace answered. "Also, I'm going to a boarding school in North Scotland, and you most definitely haven't heard of it."

Adelaide just hummed and turned to look out at the lake. Grace wrinkled her nose when she noticed the faint smell of alcohol coming from the girl next to her; she probably hadn't been home yet. She slowly turned to eye Adelaide without attracting attention.

"So, what brings you here?" Adelaide suddenly asked, startling Grace. "Speaking for myself, I just came back from one of the best parties of the summer, though I don't think I can say the same about you." Her eyes were twinkling mischievously.

"Escaping that suffocating place I call my home, that's what brings me here," answered Grace, plucking at the grass next to her.

"Oh, that's what they all say, honey."

Adelaide began fumbling for her cigarettes. "You want one?" she asked, handing Grace her cigarette case.

"I'm only thirteen," Grace said appalled, though she took the case from Adelaide's manicured hands. She knew that some of the older girls at Hogwarts liked to sneak off to the Astronomy tower to have a smoke right before curfew, and she also knew that Gillian had nicked some from her father's office in 'case of emergency'. Grace had to admit that she liked the smell of the small cigars her father sometimes smoked when he thought no one would notice, so she opened the case and retrieved one of the cigarettes.

"You know, I don't want to force you," Adelaide said as she took a drag from hers and observed Grace rolling the cigarette between her fingers. "I was twelve when I started smoking and I'm still slim and beautiful."

Grace threw her an exasperated look and lit the fag. Smoke filled her mouth and lungs as she took her first deep drag, and she wasn't able to force down the dry cough that immediately followed. Adelaide just laughed and took an apple out of Grace's basket.

The two girls went their separate ways when noon approached but arranged to meet again next Saturday. It was only the middle of July and Grace was in desperate need of a friend until her third year at Hogwarts would begin. And even though Adelaide was three years older than her, she found herself fascinated by the tall and carefree girl.

As Grace was sneaking back into the manor she could hear her parents whispering in the kitchen, but the sound was soon drowned out by the clattering of pans and pots, telling her that Miles and Maggy were preparing lunch. Grace hurried up the grand staircase to her room and found two letters lying on her desk, and the family's owl sitting and hooting on her windowsill.

"Hey Meryl," said Grace and petted the owl's small feathery head. The owl hooted again and ruffled its feathers.

As usual, Gillian and Alphard had written to her, but not Tom. Grace sighed as she sat down and skimmed through Gillian's letter in which she was complaining about her parents and the weather in Sweden. Alphard's letter wasn't jollier, though at the end he asked Grace if she would like to meet up at Diagon Alley during the last week of holidays. The brunette smiled when she scribbled a short reply that, yes, she would like that very much. Why couldn't Tom be that much of a gentleman?

* * *

The atmosphere at home remained frosty during the rest of the holidays. Grace, after telling Adelaide about her suspicions, felt encouraged by the older girl's words that her parents were probably hiding something, but only to protect Grace from her past. She of course hadn't told Adelaide about her magical background, but it felt good to confide in someone who wasn't Tom, Gillian or Alphard. With Adelaide, Grace felt more mature and carefree, and one evening she even dared to take a drink out of the bottle of gin the black-haired girl had brought along. The two girls giggled and squealed as they exchanged stories about their friends and families.

"You know, I think I like someone," admitted Grace after her fifth big swig from the bottle. She could feel the alcohol clouding her mind as she leaned back on the grass, though she didn't mind. It felt good not to be within the range of her worried parents, a sulky Tom, or a discreet Dumbledore.

Adelaide laughed and took the bottle from Grace's limp hands. The sun had already set and it was getting hard to make out anything that wasn't within a three-metre range of their vision. A frog croaked nearby, and Grace closed her eyes.

"I've had my fair share of boys, so shoot— maybe I can help," said Adelaide.

"Oh, it's not like that," Grace laughed and felt her cheeks colouring. "I— I just think I've liked him for a while now even though I'm quite sure he doesn't like me back. Like, at all."

"What makes you think that? Boys have some pretty weird ways to express their feeling towards the female population."

"He's just ... I don't know, we've known each other for so many years now but I always get the impression that he only sees me as a thorn in his side— a very big and spiky thorn."

Grace could feel tears welling up in her eyes, but quickly gulped them down.

"Grace, you know what I'm going to say," Adelaide began and tapped her fingers against the almost empty bottle. "First and foremost, you need to love and trust yourself. Don't let yourself be undermined by someone who isn't worth your time. You should go for a guy who will appreciate you."

"But I'm only thirteen," Grace mumbled, repeating her earlier words from weeks ago.

"Yes, yes." Adelaide waved her hand impatiently. "That's what you've said a dozen times, but here you are still sitting smoking cigarettes and drinking gin with someone you've only met a month ago."

They looked at each other and laughed. This would be the last time Grace would see Adelaide until the Christmas holidays or, more likely, until next summer, and Grace gave the older girl a big hug when the church-clock down the road struck midnight.

"I will write to you," Grace promised, holding her friend's hand. "And I will make sure to adopt some of your advice."

Adelaide just smiled and winked, and then she was gone. Grace felt a deep sense of loneliness wash over her as she made her way back home. On Sunday, she would take the train back to Hogwarts and get on with her life and the search for her birth-parents. She would smile and be studious, and pretend that she hadn't been adopted and was the pure-blood everyone believed her to be. Everyone, except Tom. He knew everything about her, but up until now had decided against telling the whole school the truth about her even though he _could _have. Could she trust him after all? Would he keep her secret?

Grace was as silent as a mouse when she snuck back into the manor. The lights were all out and she breathed a sigh of relief that, apparently, her parents had believed her when she had said she wasn't feeling well after lunch and wanted to lie down. She tip-toed up the stairs and into her room but a voice broke the silence right before Grace was able to close her bedroom door.

"Where have you been?"

The lights in the hallway came on and the Durands were standing in front of Grace. Maggy was already wearing her nightgown, and Frederick looked furious as they looked down at her. Grace groaned.

"Where have you been?" Maggy repeated and walked up to Grace. "We were worried sick!"

"I was only taking a walk," Grace shrugged. "I thought it would clear my head."

Her mother opened her mouth to say something, but closed it when she began sniffing the air.

"Is that cigarette smoke?" she asked, shocked.

Grace just shrugged and looked down at her feet.

"Grace, what has been wrong with you lately?" her father asked, pushing Maggy softly aside and grabbing Grace by the shoulders. "You have been nothing but distant ever since you came back home. Did something happen? Is it our fault? Please talk to us."

She could hear the desperation in Frederick's voice and felt guilt rushing through her veins. Maybe she had arrived at a conclusion too fast, blaming her adoptive parents for something they probably didn't even know about. Maybe it was only Dumbledore's fault for blocking her way down memory lane. Grace clenched her fists and felt tears sting her eyes. The Durands had been nothing but nice to her ever since the adoption back in 1935, and here Grace was thanking them with her constant rudeness and secrecy.

"Don't pamper her, Frederick, she obviously has been smoking!" Maggy exclaimed and shoved her husband's hands away to glower at Grace. "Grace, you know we don't tolerate your current behaviour. You either tell us what's wrong or you will be grounded until the train takes you back to school."

Grace's eyes darkened and she took a step back.

"Fine!" she snapped, with no intention of telling her parents about her secret meetings with Tom and now Adelaide. "I prefer my bedroom to your company anyway!"

With that, she turned around and slammed her door shut. In this moment, as the Durands stared at their daughter's closed bedroom door and Grace threw her crying self onto the soft mattress of her bed, Grace's upcoming meeting with Alphard was all but forgotten.

* * *

Sunday came and went, and Grace was almost glad to travel back to school. She had boarded the Hogwarts Express without so much as looking at her parents, hurrying off to find Gillian and Catherine in one of the compartments near the head of the train.

"I had the worst summer _ever_," Gillian greeted Grace and threw herself at her best friend. She had cut her blond hair into a bob and was looking older than Grace had remembered her.

"My, you look different!" Gillian added and looked Grace up and down, nodding approvingly.

"No, I don't," laughed Grace, her face turning red. This morning, she had decided to follow some of Adelaide's advice and had put on some make-up. Also, Grace's skin seemed to be glowing after spending most of the summer holidays outside, and her body had finally begun to change— her bosom wasn't as flat as it used to be and her legs had grown a tad bit longer.

She stowed her trunk and sat down across from Catherine who was beholding herself in a pocket mirror.

"I can't _believe_ we're already in our third year!" Gillian exclaimed as she sat down next to Grace, crossing her legs and flipping her hair. "I pray to god that we don't have any classes with the Slytherins this year or Malfoy will succeed in giving me my first grey hair at the tender age of thirteen." She sighed dramatically.

"You speak an awful lot about Malfoy, considering that you despise him— allegedly," said Catherine, peering at Gillian over the small mirror. Grace chuckled.

"_Allegedly_?" cried Gillian, pointing a finger at Catherine. "What is that supposed to mean, Watson?"

Grace laughed and was about to point out that Catherine was, in fact, absolutely on point, when she saw someone with a mop of black hair pass their compartment. She mumbled an 'excuse me' to her two friends and hurried out of the compartment, bumping into a surprised Mary on her way out.

"I'll be right back," Grace promised, not even fully glancing at Mary as she slipped into the next compartment.

"I hope your holidays were better than mine," she said and smiled, closing the sliding doors behind her. Alphard turned around and glanced at her, but the grin he was usually sporting had been replaced by a deep frown and dark eyes. He looked pale, almost sickly so, and had dark circles and bags under his eyes. He had grown a few inches and his hair was even longer, but all the joy and mischievousness seemed to have left him over the summer.

"Don't think so," Alphard grumbled and stuffed his hands inside his pockets. He leaned back against the closed compartment window and regarded the brunette with a bored expression. Grace suddenly felt uncomfortable and shivered slightly.

"Alphard, did something happen?" she asked concerned and sat down. "You know I'm your friend, you can talk to me."

"You don't even know, do you?" Alphard spat and crossed his arms. "And here I thought you were one of the few trustworthy people I have befriended at Hogwarts. It seems that Riddle has rubbed off on you after all."

By now, Grace was utterly confused. "What are you talking about?" she asked, shifting in her seat.

"We were supposed to meet up at Diagon Alley last Friday," Alphard hissed. "I waited for you for three hours but you, again, decided to leave me hanging. You know, I was actually excited to see you again after two months and get rid of my sickening family for a few hours. Thanks for ruining that."

Grace's heart sank in her chest and she looked down at the floor, suddenly feeling sick. She _knew_ she had forgotten something important, but she had been too self-absorbed to think about anyone or anything else these past few days. Alphard's reaction was comprehensible and Grace felt like the worst friend in the whole wizarding world. The boy's face spoke volumes of what he must have gone through while staying with his family, doubling the guilt Grace was already feeling.

"Alphard, I am _so_ sorry," said Grace, got up and raised her hands to allay her friend's anger. "I will make it up to you, I promise. I was just— never mind, I forgot and my behaviour cannot be excused. But please don't be mad at me, Alphard."

She looked at him with pleading eyes and could see him mulling over her words.

"Whatever," Alphard finally said and pushed past Grace, leaving her all by herself.

Sighing, Grace went back to her compartment, still thinking about Alphard's words. He had never been angry at her before, or anyone else for that matter, so his words had really stung her. And what did he mean— Tom was rubbing off on her? She, hopefully, was far from being as indifferent and cruel as Tom was. Suddenly Grace felt irritation bubbling up inside of her as she sat down next to a bickering Gillian and Catherine. She completely understood Alphard's anger, but how dare he compare her to Tom and drag him into this?

"Where have you been?" Gillian interrupted Grace's thoughts with a shrill tone to her voice. Her cheeks were red, and Grace could see Catherine's smirking face right behind the blonde.

But before the brunette had a chance to answer, the compartment door slid open again and revealed a tired and scowling Tom Riddle. He was even paler than Alphard, and he grimaced awkwardly as he saw the four girls staring at him. Grace's heart skipped a beat as his gaze finally settled and lingered on her.

"We have to talk," he said brusquely, ignoring Gillian's annoyed huff. "As soon as possible."

"Tomorrow, after dinner?" suggested Grace. Her mouth felt dry and she swallowed. Tom just nodded and left without another word.

"That Riddle, always such a gentleman," Gillian exclaimed sarcastically as soon as Tom was out of earshot.

* * *

Tom was in no mood to deal with his schoolfellows again, though he was glad to be back at Hogwarts. Compared to the orphanage, everything was a field trip, even if it meant having to study and live with mischief-makers such as Black, Malfoy, and even Durand.

He had done nothing besides studying during the summer, meaning that now he and Grace had to get back to their _investigation_, as much as he preferred not to. Grace had changed over the summer, even if it was barely noticeable— she seemed to be more self-confident, holding her head a few millimetres higher than before. Tom didn't know why but it disturbed him, and he hoped Grace wouldn't turn out to be more of a hindrance in the end than she already was.

Over the holidays, he had racked his brains about how to prevent Grace from talking to Dumbledore about their previous findings. He didn't want the old fool to interfere and Tom knew Dumbledore would do exactly that if Grace ever talked to him.

Tom gritted his teeth as he remembered the first day of the new term a few weeks back when he had literally _begged_ Grace to _not_ seek out Dumbledore. Tom Riddle usually never begged, he commanded.

It was raining outside, and Tom was staring out the window as he was waiting for Grace to arrive. Researching his mother's name had turned out to be a waste of time so far and Grace's constant whining that she needed to talk to Dumbledore to find out more about Jane Parker made Tom livid. He knew she had no one else to talk to and he was using that fact to his advantage— Grace feared that if she ever went to Dumbledore behind Tom's back, she would lose the only person she could still confide in.

Finally, after Tom had been waiting for a solid half an hour, the door to the classroom near the dungeons opened and Grace slipped inside. Her hair was messy and she looked tired, and Tom sneered at her carelessness. November was about to arrive but Grace was seemingly still wearing her summer robe; she sat down next to Tom, shivering and rubbing her hands together.

"I am so sorry I am late, I had promised Alphard to lend him my notes for Ancient Runes and he, in turn, was late for _our_ brief meeting, so—"

"Yes, enough with the chit-chat," Tom said dismissively, slamming his satchel on the desk. "The whole school knows you feel like you have to make it up to Black after your little ... _dispute_."

He rummaged through his satchel and sent Grace an exasperated look.

"Did you bring your file?" Tom demanded, making Grace look up at him with shiny eyes. "You know we wanted to go through your mother's letter one last time."

"Yes— sure," said Grace absent-mindedly and began to skim through her notes. Tom sighed, annoyed that Grace wasn't more obedient.

But when Grace suddenly took a sharp intake of breath and whirled around to stare at Tom with big, worried eyes, Tom knew that something had gone horribly wrong.

"What?" he hissed and rounded on Grace who, by now, had buried her face in her shivering hands. Tom grabbed her by the shoulders and shook her until Grace looked up at him.

"I think I've made a big mistake," Grace sobbed.

Tom and Grace turned to look at Grace's notes. Her file, including her mother's letter, was missing— and so was the whole folder of Ancient Runes notes she had given to none other than Alphard Black.

* * *

**I am, again, so sorry that it has taken me so long to update. I've had a very important oral exam last month which I fortunately passed (go me!), meaning that I now have a few weeks off to continue my story. Also, I promise there will be more Tom/Grace in the next chapter, including Grace dealing with the fact that Alphard now has her birth certificate in his hands.**

**Thanks to Miinkochi, CountOnIllusions and MXNGJI for your reviews! Miinkochi addressed a small issue she had with the last chapter in which Alphard made a comment about Dumbledore and Grace's mother possibly having been lovers- this won't, of course, be the case. We all know about Dumbledore being gay, ****but do Alphard and Grace? ;)**

**Also, this won't be the last time you'll be 'seeing' Adelaide. She's very important when it comes to Grace's slow but steady change in character. I hope Grace's smoking and drinking wasn't too much since she's only about to turn fourteen, though I think it wasn't _that_ unusual after the big Roaring Twenties.**

**Please READ &amp; REVIEW!**


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